


One Last Skate

by Beaky22



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Light Angst, Male-Female Friendship, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 12:57:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21075269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beaky22/pseuds/Beaky22
Summary: For a team that cherishes those 6 a.m. practices in a grubby hockey rink on their own, there is no way the last time they skate as partners is in front of a crowd.





	One Last Skate

**Author's Note:**

> I like to imagine this is how reality will go. 
> 
> Thank you to my friends for encouraging me and to Tessa and Scott for inspiring me. 
> 
> It felt good to write again.

Saturday creeps up on them faster than they both expected it to. Tessa thought giving themselves six days after Halifax to mentally prepare for the last show would make it easier. They’d have time to reflect together, and apart. They’d be able to get that last solo practice out of the way early in the week so their final practice days would be filled with laughter and distractions. They’d make sure their entire families could fly in for the finale, regardless of the weather. 

But what she didn’t account for was the anxious anticipation she’d feel thinking about that final moment. That moment where she would be standing on the ice, one hand clasped tightly in a hold she knew better than her mother’s hug, and the other waving fiercely while Viva La Vida played in the background. 

“That’s not going to be our final moment,” she says, plopping down in a folding chair next to Scott. His half-eaten lunch is pushed out of reach and he loosely holds a now-cold Tim Horton’s cup in his hands. Tessa knows these are both clear signs he’s not as collected as he appears. 

“Sorry, what?” he asks, jumping slightly. 

“Our bows.” She grabs the coffee cup and places it on the table before grasping both of his hands in hers. “I don’t want that to be our last moment on the ice together.” 

Scott sighs and reaches up to cup her face. His thumb pad brushes gently across her cold cheeks. “Yeah, T, I know. I don’t want that either.” 

They sit silently for a moment, his hand resting against her skin while she soaks in the feeling one last time. It’s been easy, even since they officially decided this was the final tour, to crack jokes about Beijing. If Scott catches a toe pick, Tessa’s quick retort of “got to watch those in 2022” comes naturally. When Tessa got out of sync with Scott during a run through of Sway, he made her laugh by whispering “don’t think we can beat the French with our midline looking like that, Tess.” But in this moment, in the cinderblock room beneath Mile One Centre, she can’t bring herself to make one. 

Scott seems to know anyways. He lets out a small laugh. “Don’t you dare. This old body can’t take it again.” He shifts so she’s able to rest her back against his chest and he drapes his arm across her shoulders. It feels heavier than Tessa’s used to, like this whole room is weighted down with the significance of their final skate as partners.

“I still know you, T,” he says just above her ear. She feels his breath blow the baby hairs on her temple. “That’s why I already talked to Steve and the crew. They’re going to hold the lighting breakdown and give us some time after the show, once the arena is cleared.” 

“How did I get such a good partner?” she whispers. 

He tightens his grip on her shoulders and she can feel the faint rhythm of his heart beating beneath his buffalo plaid shirt. “I don’t know, something about my aunt wanting me to stop lapping people during practice,” he jokes.

———————————————————

“You ready?” He asks, his hand extended out for hers. He’s already standing on the edge of the ice. Tessa pauses for a beat. She knows Scott knows the next time he’ll be on the ice, probably a week from now in good ol’ bright blue Ilderton Arena, mere steps from his parent’s backdoor. Tessa though? She doesn’t know for certain when her time will come. Is this the last time until her niece asks to review an easy pattern in two years? Will it be when she helps her own child strap on a pair of skates? Her future’s uncertainty feels suddenly more overwhelming than exciting. 

Scott always touches the ice in his last significant moments, but Tessa tries to hold onto the feeling of her first steps. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she says as she interlocks their fingers together. She uses her back leg to push off and they’re officially gliding together one last time. Quietly, they glide around the ice. The only sound is the growl of their blades echoing off the vast openness of the arena. Round and around until Tessa loses count of the number of times they’ve looped. 

“We should do a pattern,” Scott says, breaking the silence. “You pick.” Tessa smiles wide and Scott immediately closes his eyes and hangs his head. Given just one guess and he probably would know what she was about to say. 

“Let’s do the Yankee Polka,” Tessa says with as much authority as she could muster through her grin. Scott groans loudly. 

“Don’t do that to me, Virtch. It’s not funny.” Tessa’s laugh cuts through the air. 

“I won’t, I won’t,” she concedes, but Scott has slowed almost to a stop and he spins her in front of him. 

“Can we do a waltz?” he asks quietly. “I just want to spin you around this rink one last time.” 

“That’s what I was going to say,” Tessa whispers. “The first dance we ever learned.” 

They twist around the rink seamlessly, their bodies remembering steps that have been ingrained in them for over 20 years. The silence was comforting; it was just them and the ice. Tessa let herself remember all the laps they’ve taken before. When they were too afraid to speak in case they said something embarrassing. When they celebrated with that first medal weighing heavily around their neck. When they were too afraid to speak at the risk of saying something hurtful. All the times when they couldn’t stop talking about everything and nothing at the same time. 

“God, I’m going to miss this,” Tessa says, breaking the dance hold. She looks down at her feet and shuffles her skates back and forth, cutting the ice beneath. “You know I love you, right?” 

“I love you too, T. Forever and always.” He grabs her wrist and accelerates forward. “My partner, my co-pilot, my friend.” 

He curves his skates into a half circle, and Tessa knows what he’s doing before he even drops down into the Besti squat. How many times had they practiced this before it became second nature? It’s _ their _ move. 

Tessa places her skate on his thigh and steps up. She rests her right leg against his back and let’s her left leg fly airborne. She feels Scott tug her right hand to release, but she tightens her grip. Tessa can’t bring herself to break their connection. Scott, in turn, squeezes harder. Three seconds later, she steps down, bringing their linked hands in tight against her chest. She can feel Scott’s heavy breathing as he wraps his arms around her. 

“I’m not ready to say goodbye,” she says quietly, her arms curling up tightly across his shoulder blades. She always loved how they were the perfect height difference for him to rest his arms on her shoulders while they hugged. The weight grounds her now.

“This isn’t goodbye, T,” he says, tightening his grip. “This is just the last time it's scheduled. Our last time on the ice together will be so far in the future, we’ll laugh at what dramatic dumbasses we were crying in the middle of an empty rink in St John’s.”

She laughs softly, but doesn’t let go. She wants to soak in this moment, even though she recognizes that Scott is right. 

“Everyone is waiting on us,” she says. Her voice is muffled against Scott’s shirt and she feels him rest his head against her temple.

“They can wait a little bit longer.”

After a minute, they release and skate over to the edge of the ice. She can feel the warmth of his hand permeate her lower back where it rests. She turns to him, catches his eye and they both laugh at the tear filled puddles forming. 

“Well, this is it, partner," she whispers, reaching down to grasp his hand. Her pinkie slots between his index and middle fingers, right at home where it’s been for 22 years. But she can’t tear her eyes away from his. 

“This is it, partner,” he says quietly, staring deep back at her. 

With a tight squeeze of reassurance, they step off the ice, together, hand in hand. 

———————————————————

The hollering and clapping starts the second they open the bar door to the post-tour party. Tessa laughs as she shrugs off her coat, but Scott sees her watering eyes when she turns to hand it to him. He gives her a wink back. They’ve got this. They said goodbye on the ice already, now it’s time to celebrate with friends. 

Tessa spots her mom and sister sitting at a booth with Scott’s family, and waves. Their skating cast mates are intermingling with the band and crew at the bartop tables. In the center of the room is the mahogany bar in the round. 

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink,” she half-laughs quietly. Her body starts to warm up from the cold rink and the even colder weather outside. Surrounded by her family, her friends and her partner, no “former” label yet, she feels nothing but comfort. This night was hard. The last 30 minutes was harder.

“Definitely,” he says. His hand rests on her shoulder, just like it has so many times before, as he guides them both over to the bartender waiting to serve. 

“Quite a welcome you two just got,” she says, nodding at their tour mates. 

Scott squeezes Tessa’s shoulder and drops his hand onto the bar. “It’s been a bit of a day,” he says. “We’ll just have two drafts for now.” 

“Coming right up,” she says. “I’m Liz, by the way, I’ll be taking care of your crew tonight.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Liz.” 

Tessa smiles and turns to look at Scott. 

“I’m Tessa, and this is my friend, Scott. He’s working on becoming a figure skating coach.” She turns back to Liz and puts her hand up to the side of her mouth. “I think he’ll end up at the Olympics one day,” she stage whispers. She shoots Scott an exaggerated wink, her whole face scrunching up with a smile.

He laughs and does a slight shake of his head. They always said they felt pride in each other’s success deeper than they ever felt their own achievements. “And this is my friend, Tessa. She’s going to take over the world. I can’t wait to watch.”

**Author's Note:**

> In the words of Charlie White: did you cry? are you still crying?  
I made myself cry writing this (somewhere in the background I can faintly hear Charlie saying "Good. I think that makes all of us feel just a little bit better.")
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read this and if you've made it this far, I guess it wasn't bad enough to make you click away! It's been almost a decade since I last wrote fanfiction, so I'm sure the rust shows. But I really can't thank Tessa and Scott enough for inspiring me to finally open up a word document again. 
> 
> What a friendship we get to stan :)


End file.
